Chapter 8

She wasn't sure how long she was left there. No windows or access to the sky told her. The torchlight through the edges of the wooden door were barely discernible but unwavering. She could tell her wounds were healing, but her leg was worsening. She drifted in and out of consciousness, sweating while at the same time frozen from cold. Once, she awakened to find a fresh bowl of water and hot food on the table nearby. Barely able to believe it, she ate her fill, but it didn't stay in her stomach for long. She was so very sick, and she knew this would be where she died.

She wondered if, in a few hundred years, someone would find her bones and wonder who she was.

She barely heard the unblocking of the door as she rested, head down on her arms on the table. A pile of clothing covered the back of her head, sending her into darkness. She realized it was her armor. "Up," came Rath's voice. "You have a visitor." She was shocked to see him handing her her spear. Why not, she realized. What was she going to do with it? Her strength had left her, and she hissed in pain when her hand closed around the cold metal. She could barely lift it. "Get dressed," her captor ordered patiently. "We wait for you outside." He began to walk out the door. "I hope your memory hasn't fled, girl," he paused, speaking over his shoulder. "You'd better make this convincing."

She took a long time to dress. Most of it was fairly easy, but her leg… she cried out when she tightened her boots, hearing the bone crunch. At least it will steady her, some. She could walk. Her spear offered support, but she had to lean heavily upon it. She was reminded of one of the Matriarchs, hunched over their canes.

The light was too much. For a long while, she didn't step out of the building where she'd been kept. It was cold, and snow had begun to fall from the grey sky, though it melted when it hit the yellow, muddy grass. The breeze felt good on her feverish forehead. Carefully, she picked her way out into the courtyard of the fort she realized she was in. In fact, it looked almost familiar. Rath was there, waiting, with half of a dozen other guards. He beckoned her over, watching her gait critically. "Stand here," he pointed, his face grim, and he stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder. A show of authority, she realized.

They didn't have to wait long. Aloy shivered despite her furs. Her breaths were shallow, and more than once she felt she was going to collapse. Rath did not allow it, and squeezed her shoulder painfully whenever she faltered. All were silent, waiting, until a guard shouted the arrival. The great fort doors swung open.

There he was. "This better be good," Erend shouted, his voice booming through the fort. "Do you know how far away…" His pale eyes settled on her, and at first showed disbelief. Then recognition. "Aloy?"

She wanted to break free of Rath and run, regardless of her sliced feet. She wanted to dive into Erend's arms. The man's grip on her shoulder tightened. "Erend," Rath greeted the other Oseram. "I believe you two have met?"

Aloy couldn't meet Erend's eyes as he rushed to her. He reached out, but one of Rath's guards stopped him with a hand. "Whoa, Erend," Rath warned. "Be careful, she's dangerous. Took out a half dozen of my men when we found out the truth."

Erend's anger was obvious on his face, but now it was focused on Rath. "YOU did this? Who gave you the right! Aloy…" He tried to reach out again, but the guard stopped him.

Rath bared his metal teeth. "Aloy'd like to tell you a story, Erend. The Ealdormen had their suspicions. For once, seems they were right!"

Aloy's whole body shook, but she did her best to hide it. Erend's life depended on her performance. Carefully, she raised her head, giving her friend an even, aloof stare.

Erend's fury melted into confusion. "Aloy… what's going on?" He asked, his voice lowered, almost desperate. "What are you doing way out here?"

"I came looking for you," she told him, her lips tight. Rath's fingers dug into her collarbone with warning. She continued. "I knew there was a risk that if you returned to your clan. You'd find out the truth. That Avad hired Dervahl."

Erend dropped his hands. He watched her carefully. "How… wh…" he stammered.

"You idiot!" She hissed. "When I saw how foolish you were to consider Olin a friend, I knew you'd be easy." The hurt in his eyes tugged at her heart. She infused the pain into her voice, let it sound like anger. "You practically jumped into the trap we set, but you were supposed to stay at the Palace. At the Vanguard. But no, you had to fall in love with me." She scoffed. Rath emitted a sharp sound of amusement and surprise. Erend looked like he was being torn asunder from head to crotch.

She closed her eyes to keep from looking at either of them. "So Avad sent me to get you. To finish you off if you wouldn't return. I figured all you needed was another kiss before you came back with your tail between your legs, without any other suspicions about your sister's death." She felt like she might vomit again. "It was so…"
"Shut up," snapped the Vanguardsman. "Shut up!" His voice cracked. He turned away, hands going to his head. "How did that woman end up so smart and yet have a fool like me for a brother?! I'll believe anything!" He took off his helmet, hurling it to the ground. "I'm leaving. This has been… SO enlightening." Erend shot a heated glance at Rath. "Thanks, Rath. But I think I woulda rather you let her find me and kill me." With a swirl of snow, Erend stalked out of the compound.

As soon as he was gone, Rath spun her around, elated. "Brilliant!" He looked like he might hug her. "Oh, girl, if only half of my jobs were as easy as this was. For a moment there I thought you really didn't give a shit. But it's obvious you prefer my friend there living." He patted her on the head. "Come on inside, you look cold. We'll have a little dinner before deciding what to do with you now."

Numbly, Aloy followed Rath and his guards back into the building, grateful for the warmth. They didn't bother to take her spear, she needed it desperately to walk. Every movement shot pain up her leg and through her spine. She had almost gotten used to it.

The men were cheerful. They were going to get paid, and paid well. Rath returned her to her cell, but almost apologetically. A mug of warm cider and a plate of hot food followed after.
"What will happen to me," Aloy wondered, realizing only too late that the question was asked aloud. She tried the meat on her plate, but even the smell of it made her nauseas. Rath looked almost apologetic.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," he admitted. "That leg's pretty well rotten. You can smell it from here." He patted her feverish head before exiting her cell. "We'll take care of you until the end, but get used to these walls. You won't be seeing anything else after. On the up side, it's gross enough to keep any of my men from laying a hand on you." He locked the door shut and moved to join his comrades for dinner, where they drank their fill and told stories of past missions that were much harder than this one.

With a groan of defeat, Aloy pushed away her food. She curled up on the floor, wrapping her arms around her good leg. She was too dehydrated and exhausted to cry. Besides, what was the point? Eventually, she fell asleep to the soft clamor of men celebrating.